


It's Gonna Take a Lot To Drag Me Away From You

by gczebos



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I am so sorry, M/M, Richie Tozier Needs a Hug, ben understands richie like nobody else, eddie is dead, not a fix it sorry, pining club, richie tozier absolutely losing it, stan is dead, y'all can fight me on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 22:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gczebos/pseuds/gczebos
Summary: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?There were hundreds and thousands of answers to this paradox, as Ben recalled, but none of them prepared him to be the unstoppable force saving the life of the immovable object that was Richie Tozier.





	It's Gonna Take a Lot To Drag Me Away From You

**Author's Note:**

> Ben's face when Richie is trying to get back to Eddie as they escape Neibolt is maybe one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen okay?
> 
> If you like this fic, please check out my other ones, and also give me a follow on tumblr @gczebos while you're at it! If you hated this fic, I'm sorry it's past my bedtime and it's too late to fix it.

_ What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? _

There were hundreds and thousands of answers to this paradox, as Ben recalled, but none of them prepared him to be the unstoppable force saving the life of the immovable object that was Richie Tozier. 

The cavern was collapsing, that much was clear. The mere existence of Pennywise must’ve been keeping the structural integrity of the place intact, and now that they’d killed It ( _ heart crushed between their fingers, insults making It smaller and smaller until nothing was left _ ), the cavern trembled and shook around them, whispering a warning that they needed to get out,  _ get out before it’s too late. _

Four of them were ready to run, adrenaline coursing through their veins just like it had only moments ago, but Richie - Richie was gripping onto Eddie’s corpse ( _ corpse, oh God his corpse _ ) as if it were a lifeline, as if holding his body close would bring him back to life. Rocks began to fall from above and Ben knew they had to move before another loser was lost.

_ What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? _

“Rich, we have to go.”

Richie only hugged Eddie tighter, not even bothering to fight the tears streaming down his cheeks anymore. A particularly large rock fell within five feet of them, immediately causing Ben to leap into action.  _ I’m sorry, Richie. _ He grabbed Richie and started pulling as hard as he could, Richie thrashing and fighting him the entire time -  _ how do you move an immovable object? _ Rocks kept hurtling down towards them, the possibility of their deaths growing higher by the second. Mike stepped in to help Ben pull Richie away from Eddie ( _ not Eddie, Eddie’s body, Eddie isn’t here anymore _ ), and he heard Beverly let out a sob as she watched Richie’s heart breaking into a million pieces, unable to fix it for him this time. Richie may not have been the strongest loser physically, but it took everything within Ben and Mike to separate him from Eddie, his limbs flailing, his feet trying to propel him back towards Eddie,  _ we can still help him, guys, we can still help him - _

_ What happens when two unstoppable forces meet a man in love? _

The second Richie could no longer feel Eddie beneath his shaking fingertips, he screamed. Something broke inside of Ben when he heard it - this was Richie. Richie, the one who always made jokes, the man full of smiles, the kid who always knew how to make them laugh when they were down - the Richie he had to force out of the cavern with every muscle in his body, the Richie who was screaming and crying and fighting to stay even though staying meant death ( _ please, please no more death _ )? This was not the Richie he knew, but it was the Richie he understood wholeheartedly.

If Beverly Marsh was lying dead in the sewers underneath Neibolt, he’d want to die right beside her.

Mike kept them grounded as they moved further and further away from Eddie. Bill led the group out of the caverns, Bev hot on his heels, while Mike and Ben forced Richie to follow. Mike was whispering words of encouragement, trying to convince Richie to keep moving, that they’d get out of this alive. Ben put one hand on Richie’s chest and the other on his cheek and looked him right in the eyes ( _ his eyes are moving so fast, he’s trying to find Eddie, he can’t see Eddie anymore, he can’t do this without Eddie _ ) and pushed Richie towards safety. 

“I know, I know - Richie - please, for  _ him _ , Richie,  _ please _ .” 

Richie didn’t stop fighting against Mike and Ben until the Neibolt house had collapsed in on itself, the war they had just fought in erased from history as if the hundreds of lives lost ( _ the missing kids, Georgie, Stan, Eddie _ ) didn’t matter anymore. The house collapsed in on itself, and even then, Richie was trying to run back in, trying to save Eddie,  _ Eddie, Eddie! _

_ What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? _

_ They break. _

The dust finally settled, and once it did, Richie collapsed to the ground just as the house had seconds before. Ben and Mike caught him, easing him gently to the ground before he could hit his head. 

“Oh my god.”

“I-I-Is h-h-h-he…?”

Ben felt for a pulse.

“He’s fine, he’ll be -”

The word fine felt bitter on his tongue. He swallowed the word, refusing to speak it into existence because how on earth could Richie be fine after this? They’d all lost someone that day, they’d all lost Eddie, but this was different. It was never Richie and Eddie, it was RichieandEddie. It wasn’t Ben climbing up to Eddie’s window and breaking in at all hours of the night. It wasn’t Beverly who carried an extra inhaler “just in case”. Mike didn’t know how to walk Eddie through a panic attack. Bill didn’t cry for hours on end when Eddie and his mom moved to New York. Stan - Stanley didn’t carve anyone’s initials on the Kissing Bridge after that summer ( _ not too far from where Ben had carved Beverly’s, though she’d thought it was Bill who’d done it _ ).

A gasp that soon turned into a cough erupted from Richie’s lipsa few minutes later, and he sat up far faster than he probably intended to, his head nearly crashing right into Mike’s. For one blissful moment, it seemed like Richie had forgotten about Eddie’s death - he saw the house in shambles and smiled, he looked each one of the losers in the eyes before realizing his headcount had come up one short.

The tears began again.

Beverly was at his side in an instant, pulling Richie towards her like he had done with Eddie. Soothing words flowed from her lips as Richie blubbered like a baby, and Ben realized just how much he loved her, how relieved he was that she was safe, and how every time he looked at her he fell in love all over again ( _ even covered in blood, even holding their crying friend, even after everything she’d been through _ ). Bill placed two strong hands on Richie’s shoulders, Mike rested his head against Richie, and Ben - Ben ran his hand through Richie’s hair because Richie couldn’t stop shaking ( _ Eddie? Eddie I think you’re having a panic attack, you’re shaking so bad, let us help _ ) -

“It’s too dark, you know - it’s too dark, Eds, he -” Richie spoke, voice cracking, body scrambling to get back up again, already moving towards the ruins of the Neibolt house. 

The difference this time was that there was no unstoppable force other than Richie. Ben and Mike let him go, refusing to be obstacles any longer. Richie ran back to the rubble, searching like a mad man through the dust and wood, trying to find the man he knew wouldn’t be there.

Ben had been watching Richie so intently, tracking every miniscule movement just in case he decided to follow in Stan’s footsteps ( _ no more death, no more death, these are my friends and I can’t lose any more of them _ ), that Bev’s hand slipping into his own caught him by surprise.

“January embers.” She whispered, her eyes also watching Richie with the utmost concern.

“My heart burns there too.” Ben replied, the response rolling off his tongue easily, puzzle pieces coming into place ( _ Stan liked puzzles, he did puzzles in the corner of the clubhouse _ ).

“I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Ben felt the tears he’d been holding back finally fall. God, they’d lost Eddie - and the pain hit him like a semi-truck, the air whooshing out of his lungs ( _ Eds, Eds come on breathe, Eddie it’s just an asthma attack, or maybe a panic attack, are you panicking? _ ), his grip on Beverly’s hand tightening.

“He loved him.”

Bev didn’t seem too surprised by Ben’s statement. He took a deep breath, watching as Richie fell apart, lying in the remains of the Neibolt house ( _ he wants to be closer to Eddie, he wants, he wants, he wants _ ).

“He wanted me to help him write Eddie a poem.”

The memory flashes through his brain at the speed of light. Richie, acne covering his forehead, braces lining his teeth, clothes not keeping up with his major growth spurt - standing on his front porch, red as a beet, mumbling something about wanting Ben’s help in writing a poem for an unnamed  _ someone. _

Richie, refusing to tell Ben who, but telling him that he _ couldn’t imagine life without him  _ and that _ the best part of his day was when he could make this person laugh. _

Ben hadn’t prodded, hadn’t asked who it was, hadn’t tried to sneak it out of Richie. He knew. They all knew, in a way. Ben had helped Richie write the poem, had told Richie to share how he felt with this mystery person, that it would make him happier in the long run.

A week later Eddie and his mother were driving out of Derry permanently, and Ben tried his best to ignore the way Richie’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking as they held a neatly folded piece of lined paper.

“W-W-W-We sh-should clean o-o-ourselves up.” Bill suggested, watching as Richie stared at the wreckage around him, eerily still ( _ still like Eddie had been, oh God, Richie _ ). Bev nodded, Mike did too, and Ben found himself walking up to Richie slowly, carefully, until he could kneel right beside him.

“Richie.”

“It hurts.”

Ben’s heart ached.

“I’m sorry.”

“It hurts, it hurts  _ so bad _ , Ben -”

“Rich -” Ben placed a gentle hand on Richie’s shoulder, trying to ignore the way Richie shuddered at the touch. “We - we should get cleaned up.”

“I can’t leave him here, not like - not alone, not like this.”

And if Ben’s heart hadn’t already been broken, it would’ve shattered then and there. Richie looked so lost, his eyes irritated and puffy from the crying, magnified ten-fold by the glasses, ( _ the cracked glasses, the glasses with Eddie’s blood, oh god Eddie’s blood, that’s the last we have of him, the last we have of Eddie _ ), his hand still grabbing for someone who wasn’t there to grab it back.

Ben looked over his shoulder at the others, then back at Richie.

“I can’t leave you here alone.” 

And with that, Ben was sitting criss-cross applesauce beside Richie, making himself an immovable object instead of an unstoppable force. He pulled Richie’s head into his lap, and Richie trembled and cried and screamed and Ben sat there with him for hours, the other losers leaving and coming back with food, with blankets, with comfort - but all the while Ben sat because Richie needed someone that would stay, someone who understood and someone who knew exactly what he had lost.

The sun set that night, and Derry was calm. Five adults sat where a scary old house once stood, and if a certain bird perched itself on a nearby tree, and a breeze blew past the group whispering to them, nobody noticed it.

_ Will they be okay?  _ The breeze asked the bird.

_ Not yet, but eventually. _ The bird replied.

_ I loved him. _ The breeze added, rustling Richie’s hair as it swept through.

_ I know. _ The bird chirped in reply.

Ben looked up at the bird. The bird looked at him, then at Richie. Ben nodded. The bird then flew off with the breeze, trusting that the five remaining losers would be okay.

Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm emo and I'm sorry.


End file.
